


Paved By a Wealthy Mouth

by Monkarama



Category: orignial work - Fandom
Genre: 50's alternative universe, Androids, Detective, Nazis, Other, Robotics, cyborg, diesel punk, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7259680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkarama/pseuds/Monkarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Senator pushing for android rights is found dead in his hotel room; two Chicago detectives hit the streets to find his killer, and the possible Nazi connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paved By a Wealthy Mouth

 

The rain fell down as if it was the express train to Stockton. Falling hard onto the concrete and steel that formed the forest floor of this urban jungle. The Chicago detective’s cruiser hummed down the avenue with its wipers slapping in time to the stormy beat of the city. “Four Adam eleven come in. Four Adam eleven,” the first voice of the evening that broke the silence between veteran detective Portland and his new partner Doubs.

            “That’s us kid.” Portland gestured to the radio with his right hand while his mechanical left hand gripped the Hudson’s steering wheel.

            “Four Adam eleven responding.” Doubs sounded nervous. This was their first day out as a new detective. They wanted to impress Portland and try not to screw up, but Portland was intimidating as well.

            “Four Adam eleven, please respond to the Highwater Tower. Chief MacNamara’s orders, no lights or sirens.” The radio died down to a dim hum of static as the robotic voice finished its call out.

            Doubs looked to Portland who gave the new detective a reassuring nod. “Four Adam eleven on route” This was exciting, horrifying. Their first case and ordered by the Chief herself. Something big was going down. “Portland, what do you think is going on?”

            “Darrell, kid.” Portland puffed on the cigarette that hung loosely in his lips. His face was gaunt and expressionless. Doubs thought it was either some horror from the Big War or just Portland natural lack of life that caused him to be these large statue of a figure.

            “Ah yes, uhm Darrell, excuse me.”

Portland pulled the car onto a side street. “Well, it is something the Chief doesn’t want leaking out. Maybe someone in the glitzy life has kicked it or worse. We will know soon enough.” His voice was calm and cool, maybe too cool given the unknown urgency of their charge. Doubs nodded and sat in silence the rest of the way. It wasn’t an awkward silence per se, but rather similar to trying to talk over a loud car engine. Since you can’t, you just stay quite till it stops. The car hummed into the garage behind the Highwater and glided into a parking spot. The detectives saw The Chief standing by the service lift with two men in suits and a service robot. They opened the doors and stepped out of the vehicle before making their way other. Doubs watched Portland’s strides. Long and lumbering, yet with purpose and precision. His hands were in his jacket pockets, his hat was tipped slightly askew, and the cigarette in his mouth hung loosely. Doubs was a striking contrast. They were straight and postured like a cookie cutter toy soldier, everything was regulation and inspection ready. Their stride looked more professional, yet apprehensive. The Chief held up a hand silencing the men with her.

“You two took your time.” She glanced over at Portland, her narrowed eyes and slight scowl carried the strength of an abrasive sandstorm. “Those cigarettes are going to kill you one day Darrell. Haven’t you heard all the news about the possible health risks?” She crossed her arms and demanded an answer. Doubs wondered if this was what it felt like when titans clashed?

“With all due respect Chief. If the Pacific couldn’t kill me, I doubt tobacco will stand a chance.” He still carried the same cool calm, voice and the face of a stonewall.

“Take notes Doubs.” Chief MacNamara turned and gestured for them to follow. “The Mayor called me and had me come here personally. This is a high profile case, only you two, The Mayor, and these two gentlemen know anything about it.” The two men nodded and tipped their hats. “Darrell Portland, Percy Doubs, meet personal aide to Senator Rawlins Hence Digby, and chief of staff Clarence Thomas.” She gestured to both men as she introduced them to the detectives. They entered the service lift and made their way to the higher floors. The service bot hummed softly, its two glowing octagonal eyes blinked from time to time as it controlled the lift’s switches. “This morning at four A.M., Mr. Digby entered Senator Rawlins’s room and found him deceased. He called The Mayor, I called you.”

“I appreciate the call Chief. Why all the hush hush? Senator in a compromising position?” Portland leaned against the elevator wall, his cigarette in hand as he held it down to avoid getting smoke in the faces of the elevator riders.

“Well as you know, Senator Rawlins was the driving force for the Equal rights legislation that was just passed and ratified. He was also a big supporter of robotic amnesty, freedom, and equality. He was found dead with a service bot, one of the Vickie models.” She paused. “The sex ones.”

“I’ve heard they are fairly accurate in their appearance and feel.” Portland took a quick puff of his cigarette and exhaled slowly towards the corner of the car.

“Little relevance. We are treating this as a hate crime and a possible terrorism. Rawlins and the robot were both found with a bullet in the head. Looks like it came from behind while the two were being intimate. The robot’s memory unit and operation recorder was taken after the both were executed.” The elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened with a ding as the robot driver bowed.

“Well, Chief, seems like you solved it. Why are we here?” Portland slipped the cigarette back into his mouth as he walked lazily down the corridor. Doubs turned to the Chief, it was quite strange for them to be there if all the work was already done.

“You are detectives, you detect. I have to work on information control. I trust you two with handling the rest. Portland knows how to follow orders, and Doubs just joined the force. This would be a hell of a time to fuck up.” Doubs nodded, Chief MacNamara was just as terrifying as they had heard. “Now begin searching around, when the coroner arrives all hells going to break loose. I’ll be handling the press. You got any questions talk to the gentlemen I brought with us.” MacNamara slipped back into the elevator and departed.

“Don’t worry Doubs, this is one of her better days.” Portland shrugged and turned toward Digby. “So you are the Senator’s aide. Any idea who might have bumped him off?”

            “Ah, yes I am. And, I am afraid that’s a long list. A lot of people in the anti-robot’s rights and the opponents to the civil rights bills weren’t too fond of him. Both the political and private sectors. “

            “Anyone come into this room before you found him dead? Anyone unusual? Chief of staff, you got anyone odd on the payroll?” Portland entered the room and began to survey the scene. The senator lay atop his metal lover who was still wrapped in embrace under him. The holes to the back of his head and the side of her face were clear from the threshold.

            “No sir, not that we are aware of. No one knew the Senator was staying here. We were afraid his fondness for these robot models might cause him trouble if he were blackmailed.” Digby glanced to Thomas.

            “Exactly sir, we have always been very subtle and discrete. I hand pick Senator Rawlins service staff while he is here just for that reason. Him and the tower’s owner are good friends.” The chief of staff wringed his hands for a brief moment.

            “Ok, well I want some formal statements. Doubs, look around the room please. Take some pictures while I get these statements down.” Portland reached for his notebook and pen.

            “You got it.” Doubs was about to shit their pants. Such a high profile case and they get pegged for crime scene photos. Portland must be lazy or, testing Doubs. Doubs pulled the micro camera from their coat and began to take images of the bodies, the blood, the oil, and of the room. It was quite the large room; it was ornate as well. The walls were lines in satin with gold trim, there was a large oak desk, and a well-stocked bar in the corner. The room seemed to be untouched besides the two lying dead on the bed. Doubs crouched down to take a close up of the robot’s damaged head and missing components. The robot might have been a Vickie model, but it was in the Vick configuration. This would make the headlines for sure. Robot supporting Senator found dead after gay love affair with sensual cybernetic bedfellow. Doubs snapped a photo and something glinted in the flash. Something was inside one of the bullet holes of the robot. Doubs put the camera down and peered inside. They pulled out their pen and slid it into the hole, the object was metal and it was easily moveable. Doubs began to probe and dig at the object trying to wrestle it from its resting place.

            “Well it seems kid that anyone could have been after Rawlins. The communists because he supported labor robots, big business because he supported treating them like people, and then just every other Tom, Dick, and Harry.” Portland took a drag on his cigarette and peered over Doubs’s shoulder. “You find something in there?”

            “Yeah I did, it reflected in the camera flash, maybe it’s a bullet fragment or something?”

“I hope so, there’s no casings so it’ll help identify the weapon perhaps.”

            Doubs continued to struggle until the pesky bit of metal plopped out of the hole. Doubs reached down and grasped the circular metal button that had landed on the ground. “A sleeve button? Maybe the killer lost it when he was taking the bot apart?” Doubs looked it over, the button was gold with a large insignia in the middle. A hawk holding a ring with two lightning bolts inside.

            “Possibly kid, let me take a look at that.” Portland reached down and took the button as Doubs passed it up. He eyed it over and sighed. “Well kid, looks like we stumbled into a hell of a mess.”

            “Oh? You can tell that from the button? You recognize it?” Doubs stood up slowly.

            “Yeah I do. I got to make a phone call, go tell the Chief we need some more gum shoes down here to sweep the whole room. Also ask our friends here where Rawlins hid his documents. We are going to need to rifle through anything he has here.” Portland slipped the button into his pocket and began to walk over to the phone. “Take those two outside with you as well. I need to keep this private.”

            “You got it Darrell.” Doubs walked over to the two men still gawking at the crime scene, gathered them together, and ushered them outside.

            Portland picked up the phone and dialed a number. He put the receiver to his ear and pulled the button back out from his pocket. “Hello, this is Detective Portland with the Chicago PD. I need to leave a message for Colonel Bryson Cutter.” He sighed and ran his thumb along the button. “Look I don’t really have time to fuss and argue about why the Chicago PD needs National Intelligence’s help. If I did I’d have gone through the proper channels. Just tell him one of his missing Nuremburg boys showed up at one of my crime scenes.” Portland sighed and flipped the button into the air and let it land in his palm. “You have a nice day too, thank you.” He hung up the phone and glanced down at the button. The last time he had seen that symbol had been during The War. He slipped the button back into his pocket as he looked for an ash tray. He found one on the desk and crushed out his cigarette butt before pulling a fresh cigarette from the pack in his jacket. He put it to his lip and lit the end using the index finger of his mechanical hand. He should have brought another pack of cigarettes with him, but Doubs can always run across the street and buy him one. That’s what partners do.

Portland sat on the end of the desk and slowly put his weight onto it. He felt the desk shift slightly under him. He looked over his shoulder at the desk and stood back up. A table this sturdy couldn’t possibly buckle under his weight, he wasn’t a fat old cop yet. He puffed on his cigarette as he made his way around to the other side of the desk. There must be some sort of compartment somewhere on the desk. He followed all the seams and edges, touched every screw and bolt, opened every drawer, and even kicked the table a few times. It sure seemed solid enough. He moved back around and sat back where he had when he first felt it shift. He planted his feet and pushed into the desk, he felt it shift and then heard an audible click. A few soft creaks followed by the sound of greased aluminum moving along a track. He got up and moved back to the other side of the desk and peered under it. A lock box was suspended by a track from the underside of the desk. Portland crawled under the desk and retrieved the box, pressing the tabs along the sides to free the box from its carriage. He stood up and put the box on the desk, he’d need a key. He looked around the room for the key, checking the Senator’s affects revealed a keyring but no key that fit the lock. He thought for a moment then walked over to the bed. Possibly the robot had been how Rawlins opened the desk compartment, maybe it had the key as well. He searched it over before finding an irregular seam along one of the robot’s thumbs. He gripped the digit and lightly twisted it until it began to unscrew, slowly but surely he had found the key’s hiding place. He moved back to the desk and opened the box, almost in unison as the lid opened so did the door to the room.

“I told the Chief, Darrell. The two suits went to tend to other business. Digby said the Senator kept all his files in a terminal on the desk and in a briefcase. So those might have been stolen, also there’s no sign of forced entry on the door outside. Think the perp had a key?” Doubs paused as they saw Portland rifling through the box. “Where did you find that?”

“Under the desk in a secret compartment. I have a feeling Mister Highwater might have made this desk specially for his pal Rawlins.” He sifted through documents, envelopes, pictures, and data drives with deft precision.

“There might be something in there that will point us towards our killer?” Doubs moved to stand beside Portland.

“I hope so. Looks like a lot of dirt to me. The blackmailing kind, not the growing kind. Though, I think we also figured out why Highwater and Rawlins were so close. Seems they share a hobby.” Portland held up a small photograph of the two men lounging nude with their matching robots.

“Maybe this is a message being sent to Highwater? They both are, android enthusiasts.” Doubs felt a little uncomfortable.

“Maybe kid. I don’t know though. Whoever killed Rawlins and his droid pal didn’t know he had a secret box here. They took everything that might identify themselves, except they didn’t notice they lost a button. There was no forced entry, so the killer had a key. This place is sort of a secret meeting spot for Rawlins. I have a feeling if we look through this box we will find who is responsible. “Portland closed the lid and latched it. “You familiar with Dr. Vanstandt kid?” Portland leaned back in the desk chair and propped his feet up.

“The scientist responsible for the advancement in robotics and artificial sentience? Yes, very familiar with him. You might say he is family.” Doubs leaned against the desk, trying to look as relaxed as Portland.

“Ah that’s right. Anyway, before he was known as the father of modern robotics he was a Nazi scientist. He was more held against his will then collaborator, but he was the man who got their android projects started. When Europe was invaded by the Allies, he defected and was brought to the states with the help of the British commandos.” Portland’s face seemed to be overcast with disgust and maybe horror as he took in a slow breath. “The Nazi’s continued without him however. Division 88 was the name of the research team that picked up where Vanstandt left off. There was a concentration camp outside of a small German hamlet of Stahl where Division 88 did their experiments. They did horrible horrible things there. Things that make you question of there even is a God or some sort of divine maker.”

 He paused and took a long drag on his cigarette. “I remember finding…” He let it trail off. “Another time it’s not prudent to my point. The Division and the Reich as a whole got a lot of parts and supplies from companies based in America and England. I remember seeing an invoice from Ingram Robotics while we were there. Ingram made a fortune off the war, supplying both sides with tech and gear. Ingram’s latest products are eerily similar to some of the Nazi prototypes we came across.”

Portland took another puff on his cigarette. “Senator Rawlins was very vocal about his hate for Nazis, Nazi sympathizers, collaborators, and those who made profits off them. The only reason he tolerated Vanstandt was that he defected on his own and was an objector from the start. Ingram has been a target of Rawlins, he often criticized their policies and how they treat their androids and robots. Rawlins wanted to pass stricter oversight and control on robotics manufacturing as well as make androids and cybernetic prosthetics more available to those with less cash. Judging from what I leafed through, Rawlins had some dirt on Ingram and other manufacturers. He also had a few schematics of new bots not on the market in there.”

He took a long drag and exhaled slowly. “I have a feeling he was interested in the cutting edge. His killer might have been someone working on new models, hence the easy entry, hence the knowing of this place, hence the chance to catch Rawlins in a compromising situation, hence the Division button, and the skill full removing of parts from that robot. Someone in a rush would just destroy the drives not remove them, it takes too long to do so if you aren’t used to doing it.”

Portland took a deep breath in, it felt like he had given a speech. “So, I say we hand the box over to the techs at the department, we will interview Highwater when he shows up inevitably, Forsythe should be here soon to do forensics and examine the body, and I need a new pack of smokes.” Portland looked at Doubs, they looked amazed.

“Did, did you come to all that just by the button and the box?” Doubs was amazed.

“I’m an old man who has seen a lot of shit. Once you get some more miles on you and a few hundred oil changes you’ll out detect me. Plus, I only know what I know because of my service in the 500th Autonomous Corps, and the work I did with Bryson Cutter.” Portland took a drag on his cigarette as he heard the door opening once more. “The thing about being huge like a corporation or a politician, is you touch a lot of things and see a lot of people. Sometimes it sticks to you and the right person sees it.” Portland got up and passed the box to Doubs. Doubs took the box as well as the wise words from their senior detective.

“So what now?” Doubs turned to watch as an android with a multitude of eyes and arms walked into the room flanked by two other detectives. “Coroner Foresythe, always nice to see you.”

“Ah yes young Doubs. I hope Darrell here isn’t treating you too harshly?” Foresythe’s vocabulator made his voice sound how one might imagine a kindly stainless steel grandpa might.

“I’m teaching the kid a few things Foresythe. We need to go chase down a few leads. The robot’s thumb is on the desk but the rest of the missing pieces are well, missing.”

“I’ll have my report ready soon. Be careful you two, the weather is turning for the worse.” The old android began to examine the corpses as Portland gave a wave before exiting with Doubs in tow.

They entered the elevator and Portland glanced at the operator. “Excuse me Mack, but do you remember seeing someone early this morning getting in the elevator missing a sleeve button on their jacket?”

The robot hummed for a moment then answered in a very electric sounding voice. “Yes sir I do remember someone who was missing a sleeve button. He had three on the left sleeve and two on the right. He got on the elevator on the sixteenth floor and rode the elevator to the eighth floor.”

“Rawlins was on the twenty-fifth floor.” Doubs looked at Portland with inquiry.

“I wouldn’t wait for an elevator on the floor I just murdered someone on.” Portland thought to himself for a moment. “Doubs do you mind taking the box to the station? I need to go meet someone who might be able to help us on this case.” Portland reached into his pocket and passed Doubs his keys. “Take the car, but don’t scratch it up alright?” It was more of a demand than a request.

“Oh, alright Darrell I can do that.” Doubs took the keys from him, day one on the job and he was getting the dream assignments and experiences of every new detective. The elevator stopped on the first floor to let Portland off. He gave a wave to Doubs before making his way to the check in counter. The clerk smiled at him and began to type on her terminal.

“How may I help you, sir?” Her voice sounded way too cheery for four A.M.

“Any guests check out a few hours ago? Any on the eighth floor?” Portland flashed his badge as he leaned against the counter.

“Oh there was one man, I remember him. His mother fell badly ill in the night and he had to leave immediately.” She began to open the registry on her terminal.

“He say where he was leaving to?” Portland watched her fingers type at a lighting pace.

“He didn’t, but he had an accent, and with as late as it was I’d say he was heading to the airport to catch a red eye.”

“His accent German?”

“I’m not sure, it could have been detective.” She smiled. “I think it might have been, His name was Jetrick Mueller. He paid in cash and left a local number as an emergency contact number.”

“If you don’t mind could you print all that out and give it to the next officer you see, and might I use your phone?”

“I would be glad to help detective.” The clerk placed the telephone on the countertop and went to retrieve the print out.

Portland glanced at the terminal screen and dialed the number. It was the number for a diner down the block, they were open. He then dialed another number. “Hello there, Detective Portland Chicago PD. I have a feeling Colonel Cutter is on his way to see me. Can you tell him to meet me at Jessie’s Dinner Bell, three blocks north of the Highwater Tower? Thank you.” He hung up and made his way outside. The rain was falling even harder now, he wished he had told Doubs to drop him off first. He stepped from the awning covered entrance and began to head toward the diner, he hoped it was as good of a joint as the cheery voice on the phone made it out to be. He needed a pick me up and the day just started. Not the best sign, but not the worst either.

 


End file.
